


In the Nick of Time

by PuzzleMeWhole



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleMeWhole/pseuds/PuzzleMeWhole
Summary: When Hermione is almost killed by Bellatrix Lestrange in the battle at Hogwarts, Minerva makes a split second decision to save her star pupil's life. How did she manage to save the young woman just seconds before she was hit with the killing curse, and what will be the consequences for Minerva's actions?





	1. Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall had most often been described as a strong, collected, and stoic woman. Even on the venerable witch’s worst days, her lips were pressed in a tight and thin line, her hair was pulled up into an immovable and flawless bun, and her emerald green teaching robes flowed elegantly around her form without the slightest crease or wrinkle.

At this moment, however, Minerva McGonagall was none of these things.

Rushing through the corridor amidst dust and rubble while dodging errant hexes and curses from enemies unseen, Minerva looked more like a roaring banshee than the icon that she was believed to be. Her mussed long black hair swirled around her head as she ran looking much like a dementor trailing in her wake. Her normally immaculate teaching robes were shredded and burnt leaving large holes and long tears where bright red scratches and searing burns could be seen just beneath.

The single most alarming change, however, could be found in the witch’s emerald eyes. Eyes that had been trained to hide emotion now appeared to be unbridled and overflowing. In those swirling depths any onlooker could easily discern flashes of determination, rage, astonishment, sadness, and most importantly of all… fear.

Yes, the woman was afraid. There was no way to deny it. They were outnumbered, and Hogwarts, her beloved school, was falling fast. Rushing down the staircase now in an effort to reach the Great Hall, Minerva turned her head to the side quickly and held in her tears as she leapt over a small pile of bodies. _They were children._

She had been through many wars, but even her past experiences could not turn the woman’s heart to ice. Every death was a waste, a broken dream. No matter how many friends, loved ones, and colleagues she had seen buried, she had deeply and desperately mourned every single one.

 _Focus. The dead will be mourned when the battle is over. Focus._ The woman thought to herself as she shifted into her animagus form and vaulted over the last few steps that had been split by magic. Quickly transforming back, she continued running hoping to reach the Great Hall in time to assist with preventing further advancement of Lord Voldemort’s forces into the depths of Hogwarts castle.

She could hear the sounds of battle increasing, thundering in her ears as hexes and curses bounced off of walls and statues just beyond her view. Blood curdling screams ricocheted off the walls and sent chills down her spine as she rounded the last corner before reaching her destination.

There, just in front of the doors of the Great Hall, witches and wizards from each side were facing off against each other in duels the likes of which she had not seen since the last war. Her emerald eyes quickly scanned the corridor, settling instantly upon a head of curly brown hair and determined almond colored eyes. There was her star pupil, and dare she say friend, struggling to fend off none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

Minerva uncharacteristically froze in place as she watched the loathsome woman twist her wand through the air as her high pitched cackle bounced through the hall. With a smirk on her lips as the dark witch watched Hermione squirm, she cast the curse that she was sure would end the irksome child. “Avada Kedavra!”

When the bright flash of eerie green light burst forth from the twisted wand, Minerva’s mind sprung into overdrive. Hermione was defenseless, her wand laying just out of reach as she huddled against a wall barely supporting her own weight. Without a moment to pause and think of the possible consequences, Minerva raised her wand and with a swish and flick cast her own spell just as the killing curse was about to crash into the young woman she had sworn to protect. “Tempore Salvum!”

Instantly, an opaque bubble appeared around Miss Granger. Then, just a split second later, the young woman was gone.

* * *

Hermione was just barely managing to balance against the wall with her right hand when she saw Bellatrix Lestrange cast the curse that would inevitably take her life. As the flash of light raced through the air, she turned her head slightly and her wide eyes locked onto the brightest shade of emerald she had ever seen.

The fear that the young woman saw in those eyes both scared and intrigued her. She wanted to reach out for the woman, but her left arm was hanging loosely at her side after nearly being severed earlier in the battle. Just as she was about to close her eyes, Hermione watched as rose colored lips opened to release a roar that she couldn’t hear over the never-ending ringing in her ears.

Suddenly, the area around her appeared blurry, as if she were watching the scene of the battle through a dense fog. Then, a mere moment later, her world went black.

* * *

 _Pain._ That was the only thing her brain could register as the first moments of consciousness swept over her body. Excruciating pain. Her head was throbbing relentlessly and her whole body ached as if she had been run over by the Hogwarts Express. _Wait… Hogwarts. The battle!_

With that last thought, Hermione Granger’s eyes snapped open in an effort to take in her surroundings while she made a valiant attempt at getting to her feet. Her effort was impeded by a great wave of dizziness that coursed through her and caused her to fall back to the bed in a tangled heap.

“Easy now. I’m afraid you took quite the fall. You were lucky that Miss McGonagall here was around to find you and get you up to the Hospital Wing.” The voice that addressed her sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She cursed her blurry vision and rubbed her eyes fervently with her right hand.

“What… where am I?” she asked the man standing to the left of her bed.

“Well you are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of course!” the man exclaimed with mirth in his eyes and a slight chuckle in his voice. “You took a bit of a spell out near the Quidditch pitch and Miss McGonagall brought you up to the hospital wing to have your head examined. She said you were mumbling something about a battle of some kind.”

Recognizing the name of her transfiguration professor the second time that it was spoken, Hermione quickly whirled around to her right. A sharp gasp escaped her parted lips and her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she took in the woman standing just before her with a broomstick in her hand.

She saw a tall and lanky young woman with the toned body of a lifetime athlete, long and flowing black hair that hung just past her shoulders, bright and shining emerald eyes that she would recognize anywhere, and pale and milky skin that remained untouched by the hands of time.

Attempting to push her shock at the woman’s appearance aside, Hermione managed a stuttered, “Mmm… mmm… McGonagall?”

Instantly, the young woman raised her chin and flashed her a brilliant smile before responding, “Minerva McGonagall, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, at your service!” She followed her jubilant introduction with a slight bow and a brilliant laugh that reached into Hermione’s chest and stole her breath away.

Without moving her eyes that unwillingly remained fixated on the woman before her, Hermione hesitantly queried, “What… what year is it?”

Another light chuckle vibrated across the air as the elder man on her left again responded, “You must have hit your head a bit harder than we had thought! It’s 1953, of course!”

As soon as her brain was able to process the answer that she had received from the seemingly carefree man, Hermione’s world went black again.

* * *

**TBC - Reviews are wonderful!**


	2. Chapter 2

As the late Saturday afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the hospital wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall glanced up from the latest edition of Transfiguration Today to ensure that the girl in the bed she was sat next to was still resting peacefully. After the strange witch had lost consciousness when speaking with Professor Dumbledore, the man had asked Minerva if she wouldn't mind watching over her until she woke up, at which point she was to be brought to Headmaster Dippet's office, immediately.

Young Minerva was always eager to take on special assignments and additional responsibilities and, as such, had immediately acquiesced to her transfiguration professor's request. After all, as Head Girl, it would likely be her responsibility to guide the girl through her first days at Hogwarts if she was in fact a new student, as Minerva suspected.

She had been outside, gliding gracefully through the air along the quidditch pitch on her new Cleansweep Five, when she had first seen the shorter girl. She had just turned to begin a rather difficult dive maneuver when she spotted a small figure on the grounds of the pitch. Diving as quickly as she could manage, she stopped next to the figure to find a girl of about her age, presumably unconscious.

Carefully approaching the girl with her wand drawn,  _one can never be too cautious,_ she had felt for a pulse and then placed a hand slightly over her mouth and nose to verify the girl was breathing. Assured that the girl was still alive, Minerva had gently shaken her shoulder in an effort to rouse her so that she could be removed from the pitch. Upon being shaken, the girl visibly shivered and began muttering incoherent sentences. All Minerva was able to discern were the words, " _Hogwarts_ …  _the battle_ … and  _looked afraid…"_

Based on the information that the intelligent young woman had ascertained, she assumed that the girl had been en route to Hogwarts as a transfer student when something or someone had attempted to impede her journey. Worried that the girl may be suffering from a concussion, she had immediately scooped her up and held her against her chest on her broom while flying back up to the school. When the girl was safely ensconced in the hospital wing she had sent an elf to retrieve Professor Dumbledore and they had waited together for the mystery girl to regain consciousness.

Now, watching as the girl took slow and deep breaths, Minerva wondered what had brought the girl to Hogwarts after the start of the semester. When she had spoken earlier, it had been with a decidedly English accent, so why had she not been at Hogwarts from the start? Maybe the girl had family in France or the Americas and had attended another wizarding school but had decided to return to her home country for her final year.

As the Head Girl sat pondering the strange circumstances surrounding the newcomer, the girl in question slowly began to stir in her bed. Minerva glanced over just as fluttering eyelids gave way to swirling warm chocolate that seemed to hold a depth of emotion that momentarily startled the young woman. As she watched, the seeming storm in those dark orbs ceased and gave way to a reserved calm that appeared somehow… forced.  _Curious._

* * *

The first thing that Hermione Granger noticed upon regaining consciousness was that her head was no longer throbbing in pain. With the pounding no longer invading her senses, the misplaced girl was able to begin to truly take in her surroundings. Feeling a presence to her left, Hermione allowed her eyes to flutter open and was stunned upon finding a sea of emerald green staring back at her.

A shiver traveled down the girls spine at the openness of those bright eyes. Tendrils of surprise, excitement, trepidation, and fear all rapidly spun through her mind. Realizing that she was staring, the young woman schooled her features. She had learned this ability from an older version of the girl sitting before her and suspected that it would provide a great deal of assistance in getting through the next few hours of her life.

Spotting the magazine in the young woman's hands, Hermione tested her voice, "Is that…" she softly cleared her throat to attempt to remove the low rasp that had accompanied her first words, "Is that the newest Transfiguration Today?"

Minerva, surprised that another student so easily recognized the publication solely from the back cover, arched a single brow before responding, "Indeed. It just came by owl this morning."

Hermione seemed to tilt her head in thought a moment before she asked, "Well then, anything interesting this month?" Before she had even finished her question a giant toothy smile sprouted on the face of the younger version of her professor. Taken aback by the gesture that was entirely uncharacteristic for the Minerva McGonagall of her time, Hermione almost missed the young woman's enthusiastic response.

"I would certainly say so, though you could say that I am just a wee bit biased," Minerva offered, turning the magazine to show her picture gracing the front cover. "You see, I was awarded the Most Promising Newcomer title this month, and the article contains my paper on the path to becoming an animagus." Her chest puffed outwards slightly and beaming with pride, the Head Girl eagerly awaited the young woman's response.

Hermione chuckled lightly at seeing her mentor's chest swell and back straighten. "Oh yes, I remember you telling me… I mean, sorry. I'm not quite sure where I was going with that. I must still be a bit out of it from the fall." After pausing to collect her thoughts and organize her words in a way that would not make her situation quite so obvious, the girl continued, "It is quite an honor to receive that award. You said it was for a paper on becoming an animagus? Have you mastered a form yet?"

The girl visibly relaxed upon recovering from her near slip. Minerva, glad to have found someone interested in at least some aspect of transfiguration, delighted in continuing the conversation, "Actually, I am still working on it. I have been training under Professor Dumbledore and… Oh! I almost forgot! I was supposed to take you to him and Headmaster Dippet as soon as you awoke! I'm afraid that we must get going."

Hermione accepted the hand that the taller woman had offered to help her up from the bed and was quite surprised at the softness that greeted her fingers. For several moments after she stood, the girl remained transfixed on their clasped hands that now rested at her side. Feeling a slight tug beneath her fingers, she looked up to see… Minerva McGonagall blushing?  _She looks so beautiful with lightly flushed cheeks._

Shaking her head to dispel that thought and clear the fog that had crept into her mind, Hermione quickly released the woman's hand and mumbled a half hearted apology. "Alright," she offered, remembering her predicament, "Can you show me where the Headmaster's office is?"

* * *

Hermione had walked behind Minerva, quietly wondering how on earth she was going to explain her presence at Hogwarts twenty six years before she had even been born. When they reached the Headmaster's office, the girl that would one day be her professor explained that she had to do her rounds before dinner and excused herself after softly stating the password to the gargoyle guarding the entrance. As the Head Girl hurried off down the corridor, Hermione smiled at a barely caught, "I hope to see you again soon."

The young girl's legs seemed to turn to jelly as she walked up the stairs, feeling as if she were a newly convicted criminal taking the long walk to her future Azkaban cell. When she opened the door leading to the office, she saw that Headmaster Armando Dippet was sitting behind his desk and a much younger version of Albus Dumbledore occupied one of the two high backed chairs that sat before it.

The Headmaster gave her a quick once over before speaking, "Ah, here you are young lady. Please, take a seat." Hermione wearily made her way forward and sat in the chair next to her previous Headmaster. It was strange seeing the man alive again; even stranger so as his beard was not white but a light brown in color and he was missing his characteristic half mooned spectacles. However, the knowing and mischievous sparkle was still present in his bright blue eyes, and somehow, that greatly comforted her.

"Now, young lady, let us start with the simple questions. What is your name and where are you from?" The Headmaster then looked at her expectantly, clearly awaiting a response to his queries. Dumbledore had turned in his chair as well, though his gaze was much softer, almost as if attempting to provide support to the young woman at his side.

Hermione briefly wondered whether she should obfuscate or answer the Headmaster's questions truthfully, but at catching Dumbledore's gaze, she opted to be forthcoming. She needed an ally in this time that could help her to determine why she was here and how or if she would be able to return home, and she expected that if anyone could be of assistance, he would be the one.

"Well, you see," the young girl began, "My name is Hermione Granger." She paused briefly and wrung her fingers together before heaving a great sigh and continuing, "I am a seventh year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" she paused again, this time finishing her statement in a mere whisper, "in the year 1998."

Dumbledore's eyes filled with glee as he exclaimed merrily, "I knew it! I told you Armando, she is from the future!" He turned to the young girl next to him and placed a large hand over her forearm, "Don't you worry, my dear, we are here to help."

"That is quite enough, Professor Dumbledore," the Headmaster snapped, his inquisitive gaze never leaving Hermione. "Now, Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to explain how you have ended up more than forty years in the past… somehow without providing us with important information from the future… it would be most appreciated." The Headmaster sighed in obvious frustration at the situation while waiting for the girl's explanation.

Multiple times the young woman began to speak, before stopping just as she realized that she was about to give away information that would irrevocably change the future. As much as she desired a way to prevent the battle at Hogwarts from occurring, she had been painstakingly educated in the dangers of time travel before.

Unable to come up with any other possible explanation, Hermione simply stated, "Minerva McGonagall sent me here."

Both Armando and Albus let out equally surprised gasps at the young witch's statement. Silence swept through the room, extending for several long minutes, before Dumbledore dared to speak once more, "Is there anything else that you can tell us, Miss Granger, anything else at all that may be of assistance?"

Hermione pondered the question again, furrowing her brow in concentration. Coming to a decision, she added, "I was in what I believe to be mortal danger. From what I have deduced of the situation, Minerva McGonagall sensed this. With speed that I have never seen before, she cast her own spell towards me and I was engulfed in an opaque bubble… then, I woke up here."

Sensing what the Headmaster was about to ask, the young witch held up her hand to forestall his question, "I had already been injured and was quickly losing consciousness. My ears were ringing, so I could not hear the words that she used to cast the spell." After finishing her explanation, Hermione's shoulders fell and she rested her head in her hands as a feeling of defeat swelled in her chest.

Headmaster Dippet understood the girl's frustration, but knew that without the name of the spell used to send her back in time, there was little hope that they would be able to reverse it to return her. Spells to allow time travel were all but non-existent in his time, and he couldn't imagine massive advancements being made less than fifty years in the future.

Professor Dumbledore, for his part, had already come to the same realization. His heart ached for the young girl seated next to him, and he softened his voice as he gave her the only reassurance that he could, "Minerva McGonagall is an incredible student, and I have spent a great deal of time observing her magic as my apprentice. In situations like the one you have described, it is not uncommon for a witch or wizard to react instinctually and cast magic that may be anything but typical in nature."

"This kind of magic, often referred to as base magic, is vastly different from your everyday spell. While the spells that we use on a daily basis are governed by strict magical law and directed by concentration, memory, and discipline, base magic spells are performed with much fewer restrictions as they come from deep within the witch or wizard's magical core. These spells are instead directed by instinct, emotion, and core force."

Seeing that the young witch was following his explanation, Professor Dumbledore placed his hand gently onto her shoulder and locked his eyes onto hers before he added his final thoughts on the matter, "If Minerva McGonagall became as powerful as I believe that she will one day be, I have no doubt that she did what she felt was necessary in order to protect you. In that case, I truly believe that you were sent here for a reason, Miss Granger, and that some way or another, you will find your way home."

As she listened to her beloved ex-Headmaster speak of her mentor in such a reverent manner, Hermione's eyes became glassy with unshed tears.  _Minerva McGonagall saved my life._ Somewhere, deep within her heart, the young woman knew that Dumbledore was correct in his assessment. If Minerva had sent her here, she must have had a reason; the woman was her friend, and she would never leave her here alone.  _In fact_ , Hermione realized as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout her chest,  _she didn't leave me here alone at all. She sent me to the one person that she knew that she could trust to protect me, herself._

* * *

**AN: Many can attest to the fact that I have a long history of abandoning my writing. I make no promises.**


End file.
